


Race to the Top

by monobuu



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Arthur is grumpy, M/M, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 11:02:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7434317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monobuu/pseuds/monobuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How much debauchery can you fit into an elevator ride?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Race to the Top

“I can't believe you forgot your key card and we were forced to sneak in through the basement door,” Arthur complained lowly as they made their way slowly through the darkened halls of the basement. Alfred seemed to know where he was going, but buildings like these never bothered to cover up any of the piping or electrical equipment that was kept in the recesses of their architecture and Arthur didn't exactly relish smacking his knee or elbow into a renegade piece of metal machinery just because the American hadn't had the insight to bring a proper form of identification.  
  
“And _I_ can't believe you're interrupting our god-given day of _rest_ ,” Alfred argued back in a tone of voice that indicated through sound alone that by 'rest' he clearly meant _sex_ , “because a certain someone forgot his gloves in an office halfway across town.”  
  
Arthur scowled at Alfred's back, a slight blush coloring his cheeks because the American was right _(for once)_ and he really didn't have an argument other than that he really didn't want to lose that particular pair of gloves. He was just glad he'd managed to convince the American to go get them before the world meetings started up again on Monday and he lost all his subsequent free time.   
  
“They're expensive,” was all Arthur said.  
  
Alfred threw him a look over his shoulder that was half exasperation, half resigned affection as he finally stopped in the little patch of light just in front of the elevator. His hand reached out and punched the button, then he turned back to Arthur.  
  
“Might take awhile,” Alfred said. “Fifty floors and all.”  
  
Arthur knew how many floors there were. He scowled at the American for bringing it up.  
  
“And this building's elevators are super slow,” Alfred added casually. “Takes even longer to-”  
  
“I _know_ , Alfred,” Arthur growled out. “You don't need to remind me.”  
  
“Wanna take the stairs?” Alfred suggested, raising an eyebrow.   
  
Arthur blinked at the abrupt question, then glared at him. “Up fifty floors? Are you daft?”  
  
Alfred laughed and reached out to wrap his arms around Arthur's waist comfortably. Arthur allowed it, but he frowned viciously anyway, lest he lose his reputation. The American's laughter petered out eventually and he glanced over to the elevator doors which had yet to open. He tilted his head and Arthur's frown lessened as he watched his lover turn a slow smirk on him.  
  
“What?” Arthur asked gruffly.  
  
“Betcha I can get you off before we get there,” Alfred said, excitement coloring his voice.  
  
Arthur spluttered impressively, waving his arms in a flail for a moment before he turned an embarrassed look on the still smirking Alfred. “What?!” he demanded in a low whisper, as if people might hear him through the ventilation ducts.   
  
“I said~” Alfred half sung, “I betcha I can get you off before-”  
  
“I heard what you said!” Arthur whispered, slapping Alfred in the arm to express his frustration. “What the bloody hell makes you think I'd participate in that sort of- of-”  
  
“Debauchery?” Alfred said with a leer and a halfway decent English accent that went straight to Arthur's cock.   
  
The Briton felt his cheeks heat with both embarrassment and arousal, and scowled fiercely at Alfred. “I can't believe you-”  
  
“Come on,” Alfred interrupted, hands dropping to Arthur's ass to pull their lower halves together before his head bent to kiss Arthur's neck. “The elevator or the proper British gentleman, which do you think will...” and here Alfred paused to lick a slow line up the shell of Arthur's ear, “reach its _peak_ first?”  
  
Arthur's breath was getting ragged with all the attention Alfred's tongue was bestowing on him and his hips jerked into Alfred's in a plea for some sort of friction. Arthur knew that with Alfred, once they got started, they couldn't just stop. And while they could finish perfectly fine in the recesses of the basement where no one was likely to come and interrupt them, the prospect of doing it on the elevator, with the chance that someone might catch them, turned Arthur on more than he'd like to admit. He'd never tell Alfred this, of course, so when the elevator finally pinged and Alfred pulled back to raise an eyebrow at him, Arthur huffed.  
  
“Oh, bloody hell,” he muttered heatedly, shoving Alfred into the elevator.  
  
The American laughed in triumph and pulled Arthur into him, turning so that he could press the Briton up against the wall. Alfred pressed his hips into Arthur's and the Briton could tell that they were both well on their way already, the heated grind sending Arthur's head back until it hit the wall as his hands pulled at Alfred's jeans.   
  
Alfred pressed a wet kiss to the underside of Arthur's jaw and mumbled, “Ready.” He trailed up and around to kiss Arthur's cheek, fingers digging into Arthur's sides, “Set.”   
  
Arthur's own hand snaked out to reach for the button panel as he brought his lips up to ghost over Alfred's. “Go,” Arthur breathed, pushing the button before crashing their lips together in a heated mess of tongues.  
  
The elevator pinged and the doors shut as Alfred slid his hands around Arthur's backside, bringing their bodies flush against each other as the elevator began to move up. That odd, momentary sensation of displacement that came with every elevator ride washed over Arthur and he pulled away from the kiss to gasp as the feeling mixed with his lust in peculiar blend of excitement. And although Arthur was usually an advocate of foreplay and all the slow sensuality that usually came with it when he was in charge, he was willing to admit that this was probably not the time for it.  
  
Arthur dropped his hands to Alfred's belt and tugged impatiently, grinding his hips into Alfred's with more force as he felt the American's mouth move to suck at his neck. Alfred's hands moved, untucking Arthur's dress shirt so that he could push his fingers underneath, brushing against Arthur's nipple with firm strokes.  
  
Arthur was enjoying himself immensely, but the movement of the elevator was an ever present reminder that they were on a time limit. He tugged Alfred's head back to crush their lips together again, then broke it abruptly to glance at the numbers above the door. “Fourteen,” he whispered raggedly against Alfred's lips. “Faster!”  
  
The American nodded and slid his fingers back down Arthur's chest to start with the buckle on his belt. Arthur felt his lust-hazed mind stumble into panic, eyes widening as the fly gave way on his trousers.  
  
“Alfred, what if we get-”  
  
“No time to argue, old man, eighteen” Alfred mumbled, tugging Arthur's trousers down just past his ass and covering Arthur's lips with his own once more in an effective move to stop the Briton's complaints.  
  
And once Alfred's hand found Arthur's cock, he forgot entirely why he had been complaining in the first place. “Yes~” Arthur hissed in appreciation against Alfred's lips as the long, firm strokes brought him further toward that blessed peak. “Nngh!”  
  
“Arthur,” Alfred grunted, pushing something into his hands. The Briton struggled to concentrate, opening his eyes to find a small bottle of lube in his hands. He didn't have time to wonder exactly _why_ Alfred had brought it with, so he just opened it and coated Alfred's waiting fingers.   
  
Alfred didn't waste any time, circling his fingers once, twice around Arthur's entrance before pushing the first finger in. Arthur bit his lip and pressed his forehead against Alfred's shoulder to muffle his moan, hands dropping to Alfred's belt as he felt a second finger enter him. He almost had the American's trousers opened when Alfred hit his prostate and turned him into a gasping, shaking mess, barely able to keep upright with all the pleasure coursing through him.   
  
“Al-Alfred!” he gasped out in a stuttering breath, nearly whimpering when he felt that amazing pressure leave him. He focused his thoughts with great difficulty and finished freeing Alfred's cock from the tight confines of his jeans, using the lube he still held in his hand to slick him up with quick, firm strokes. Alfred nearly choked on his inhale and Arthur grinned, eyes glancing at the counter above the door.  
  
“Thirty one, Alfred,” Arthur growled and Alfred narrowed his eyes before spinning Arthur around, pressing his chest up against the wall as he steadied the Briton's hips with broad hands. Arthur ground his forehead into the wall as he felt the thick heat of Alfred's cock slide into him to the hilt, breathing raggedly as his fingers gripped uselessly at the smooth metal.  
  
After a long moment, Arthur flicked his eyes open, scowling in impatience before using the wall as leverage to push his hips back into the stationary American. “Thirty four, Alfred!” he hissed, the sound turning into a breathless moan when the sudden movement sent a wave of pleasure up Arthur's spine.  
  
Alfred began to move then, pulling out almost entirely before thrusting back in, aiming toward that one spot that would make Arthur scream. The Briton brought one of his arms forward to muffle his shouts but was left gasping into open air when Alfred tugged him away from the wall by his hair, the American's mouth descending on his neck and the underside of his jaw as he continued to slam into Arthur with increasing speed.  
  
Arthur was so focused on Alfred and the almost haggard sound of his own breathing as the sharp angle of his head forced his breaths out in rasping exhales of pleasure – his mind so absorbed in the building pressure that was beginning to overflow with each heated stroke of Alfred's cock inside him – that he almost didn't notice the soft ping. And when he creaked his eyes open, gasping as Alfred's tongue hit that spot just behind his ear, and glanced at the counter above the door, he nearly missed the implication of the single glowing number.  
  
But when the doors began to open slowly, Arthur put two and two together and got-   
  
“Forty one!” he shrieked in a panicked voice, jerking his head out of Alfred's grasp and frantically reaching his hand out to push the 'close door' button. Alfred tugged him back before he could press it, however, pushing him firmly into the wall and draping his larger form around the smaller nation. Arthur's cheeks were surely as red as the stripes on Alfred's flag as he pressed his forehead against the cool metal, frustratingly aroused and yet exceedingly embarrassed, and not at all pleased with the outcome of those two emotions swirling together in the pit of his stomach.  
  
“Oh, my-!” he heard a voice start to say, only to cut off abruptly, as if a hand had been quickly slapped over the speaker's mouth.   
  
“Get a room!” another voice said, though the tone was less angry and more amused.   
  
Arthur heard the door slide shut and even though the elevator began to move again, Alfred remained still. Arthur let out a frustrated whimper and pushed against the wall, shoving Alfred back and arching his hips to encourage the American to continue.  
  
“Please,” Arthur moaned, dragging his fingers down the metal as he strained against Alfred. “I can't-” he tried, embarrassment pushed to the side for the moment. “I'm so close,” he whined.  
  
That was all it took. Alfred let out a pleased chuckle, grabbed Arthur's hips and pulled out, thrusting back in with enough force to freeze the breath in Arthur's throat as he abruptly felt the heat of Alfred's cock hit his prostate. Alfred's hand dropped to Arthur's own erection and began to pump in time with his thrusts, and Arthur immediately stiffened as his orgasm took him, a ragged moan tearing from his throat as he spilled into his lover's hand.  
  
He vaguely registered Alfred's own release in the hazy afterglow of his own, a near silent gasp accompanied by half of Arthur's name and a sudden, heavy heat draped across his back as Alfred slumped into him in exhaustion. They both remained still for long moments, catching their breath as they leaned against the wall. Arthur heard another soft ping and lazily turned his head to see that they had reached their destination. He slowly pushed away from the wall, grimacing a little as he felt Alfred slip out of him.  
  
Arthur bent and pulled up his pants, cheeks heating as he noticed a spattering of white covered the wall of the elevator and was currently running in slow rivulets toward the floor. He cleared his throat and turned as he finished buckling his belt, scowling when he saw the lopsided, happy grin on Alfred's face. The American had yet to do up his trousers and Arthur darted a glance out the doors to make sure no one was standing on the other side before turning back to Alfred and huffing in annoyance.  
  
Alfred just licked his lips. “Wanna see if I can get you off again before we make it back down to the-”  
  
“No,” Arthur said firmly, tugging the American's trousers up and tucking him carefully inside before moving to the zipper. “It's bad enough I let you convince me to do this, we're never-”  
  
“Aw, don't say never,” Alfred said happily, arms looping around Arthur and tugging him close. “That was fun!”  
  
Arthur heard the elevator doors begin to close, but made no move to stop them. He sighed and let his forehead fall against Alfred's shoulder, inhaling the American's sent before idly looping his fingers through the belt loops on Alfred's jeans.   
  
“Let's just get what we came for,” Arthur murmured, pulled out of Alfred's loose embrace and pressed the button that would open the elevator doors.   
  
“What do you mean?” the American asked and Arthur stopped and turned, hand snaking out to keep the doors from closing on him. His lover was wearing a pleased smirk. “I got what _I_ came for.”  
  
Arthur was silent for a moment before his eyes narrowed. “You planned this,” he accused.  
  
“You loved it,” Alfred argued with a knowing smile.  
  
Arthur scoffed and turned, letting the doors close on a sudden shout from the American still within. He scowled, knowing for a fact that he certainly had _not_ loved any part of that despicable, deceitful -  
  
“Arthur! Wait up!”  
  
\- _ridiculously inappropriate_ display of spontaneity.  
  
Arthur coughed, feeling his cheeks warm pleasantly as Alfred finally caught up to him.  
  
 _Except that maybe he did_.


End file.
